


retention

by milkhouse



Category: Start-Up (Korea TV)
Genre: F/M, Mild Angst, unclear plot i’m so sorry! ahha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27720046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkhouse/pseuds/milkhouse
Summary: Jipyeong wishes he contacted Dalmi earlier. It’s a shame he can’t turn back time anymore.But maybe the past didn’t matter.
Relationships: Han Jipyeong/Seo Dalmi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 51





	retention

**Author's Note:**

> I’m posting another Jinjae fic next week (or maybe the week after next week!)
> 
> It’s pretty short though

Jipyeong wishes he contacted Dalmi earlier. It’s a shame he can’t turn back time anymore.

He remembers it every now and then, how alone he felt that night.

An orphan running around, the bitter fall of the rain sparing no survivors for the night. He was freezing, but he had no one to complain no. There was no place for him to stay the night at. He’d be glad if he could somehow find a way to convert his award to shelter for the night, but it was just in his duffel bag, bulky, paltry, and purposeless.

Zippered within his duffel bag were the only belongings he had, but his life wouldn’t be that much different if he didn’t have them. The thought made him miserable, how he fought so much, but still had nothing. Irritated as he was with the real estate agent, he could’ve thrown the bag away right then and there, but he had to endure the cheap strap digging into his shoulder. Jipyeong had no choice.

He detested being youthful, it was the very thing preventing him from succeeding. His classmates and teachers knew that his skills matched that of an expert in the field, but they did nothing beyond praise him. It’s not like he had connections to easily make his way to the top.

Jipyeong was lauded for his achievement, but it meant nothing to him. He had no one to celebrate the victory with, and his reward wasn’t even _tangible._ Cryptocurrency couldn’t shield him from the rain. The win meant nothing to him, unless he could benefit from it directly.

He believes in God for a second, the heavy backpack suddenly light as a feather when he chanced upon a flyer taped to an electric pole. The deal is too good to be true, and he’s stuck in a trance.

Finally, there is hope for some rest after all his travails.

As he grabs it, a voice warns him not to be fooled by the bait.

It belongs to an elderly woman. Jipyeong is annoyed by her kindness, when she indirectly tells him that he can stay in her shop for the night. He’s hurt when he sees her glance at his raggedy shoes. He can only express his thanks for her offer through harsh words, but the halmeoni seems to understand him. She’s too kind for this cruel world, Jipyeong thinks as she lets him, a stranger, rest in her shop for the night. The student hungrily devours two corndogs, after be enters the shop. He considers running off with her hard-earned money, but shrugs off the idea last minute.

The rest is history.

He regretted _everything._

Why hadn’t he used his name to begin with? Why did he have to lie? He knows these questions are pointless, he was a kid when he wrote the lettters anyway. Of course he had to veil his identity.

But he contemplated further. Why couldn’t he own up to his mistakes and just reveal himself to Dalmi, as Jipyeong?

Han Jipyeong. An orphan. A coward. An empath. Someone others would probably call a masochist, if they know what he was really enduring.

He was tired of putting others before himself. It was natural to him, but he didn’t realize how the lack of care for himself had been detrimental to his own health. His words were brutally frank, but necessary. At least that’s what he used to think. Why was he always accosted for telling the truth that was for the receiver’s own good?

Jipyeong sighed as he told Yongil to shut up after it told him that everything would be fine. The _last_ thing he needed was a goddamn AI speaker telling him that it was okay to cry.

He didn’t like feeling weak. He didn’t like being alone. He didn’t like keeping all the agony in his heart to himself. The funny thing was, he’d been living his entire life exactly like that.

Being a self-made man didn’t guarantee that woe never filled his heart. In fact, Jipyeong doesn’t recall a time when it was filled with anything other than that.

Everyone thought he never struggled, but the only purpose in his life other than helping others, was fulfilling his promise to halmeoni.

It was a wake-up call for him though. The laughter that replaced his choked-back sobs as he ridiculed himself, wasn’t out of amusement. It was self-pity, the emotion he detested the most.

He never felt more alone than he did now. There was no one to turn to—halmeoni didn’t even want him to tell Dalmi the truth. His composure only crumbled as he knew he didn’t fulfill his promise, despite not wanting to. A strange feeling lurked within his heart; halmeoni must’ve favored Dosan. But again, he knew her inclination was his fault anyway. During the night of the party, if he confessed that he was Dosan, then everything would’ve been different.

Worst of all, Jipyeong couldn’t blame anyone but himself. How could he blame Dosan for liking Dalmi when she was so endearing? He told Dosan about Dalmi in the first place. Anyone and _everyone_ who got to know her was bound to admire her in their own way. It seemed like fated for the two to fall in love. With Jipyeong and Dalmi, the white lie from the beginning made it seem like a fairytale. The moment she met Dosan, Jipyeong knew that he wouldn’t ever win her heart.

With the letters he wrote, he consoled her, but it was as if time and fate worked hand in hand to ensure his defeat. Each and every time he planned on telling her the truth, he was interrupted.

He learned to fall in love with Dalmi’s perception of life through the letters—her ideology matched his so well that he found himself involuntarily smiling while reading her letters.

Throughout those fifteen years of ending communication with her, Jipyeong realized that he changed because of those letters. Unconsciously, his morals adapted to his thoughts that intersected Dalmi’s own beliefs.

Jipyeong’s face stung as halmeoni smoothed the wound dressing against his skin. “I… I’m telling you! I regret everything! Why am I such a coward? I should’ve told her I liked her! Why did I even find Nam Dosan? It was _me_ writing those letters!” he hiccups as halmeoni pats his back regrettably.

Halmeoni strokes his cheek like he always does, and tells him to pour out all his feelings. “I should’ve told her the truth from the first day! Everything is my fault! And now I can’t help you and you’re go-“ his lament is cut short when he unclasps his arms around halmeoni, and almost stumbles at the sight before him.

Dalmi stares at him with wide eyes, but before she asks him anything, he makes a run for it.

Halmeoni tells another white lie, saying that Jipyeong was drunk, and barged into the house. With her motherly nature, halmeoni comforted him.

Her granddaughter doesn’t completely buy it. She demands to learn the truth, and when she does, she slumps into her seat from the shock.

How long had Mr. Han been suffering alone?

The next time they talk is after the team realizes what went wrong with 2STO. Jipyeong seems upset, which is normal.

He doesn’t remember anything then, Dalmi thinks.

When Dalmi finds out that Dosan and Jipyeong fought, she makes her way to his place, the same night. She asks Jipyeong why he didn’t tell the truth about what happened, and why he was at their house days ago.

Resentment builds in her chest when he says that he didn’t want her to know about what Dosan did, when it was Jipyeong’s words that provoked him.

When she takes out a first aid kit and begins to sterilize his other wounds, he flinches away.

“Let me help you.” she reassures him.

Jipyeong recoils once more when Dalmi touches him. “You don’t have to pretend it isn’t awkward with me. We don’t have to be on friendly terms, Dalmi-ssi. Don’t worry. We can establish the mentor-mentee relationship we had from the begi–“

“Can you hear me out?” her voice is more stern this time, and he gives in. With eyes shut tightly, he listens to her voice in the windless night.

“I _like_ you, Han Jipyeong.” he’s yearned to hear these words for an eternity, but winces when he finally does.

Rationality slaps him back to reality. “But you like Nam Dosan.”

“The Nam Dosan I knew fifteen years ago. He oddly reminded me of you whenever we interacted. I felt naturally drawn to you, but contradicted everything I knew, I… Of course I had to like Dosan, and I did, and I do but…”

The look in her eye only contained one thing—pity. Or at least that’s what he thought it was, and it only made this more unbearable. “Dalmi, I’m telling you, you don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I’ll accept the truth. It’s fine.” he raises his hands in the air, as if to indicate his resignation.

Dalmi’s eyes begin to water as she grips his shoulders. “The truth is, I like you,” she declares boldly.

“You like me, you wouldn’t be talking to me if you didn’t. We need to establish a common understanding since I’m your mentor, or at least, was your mentor. Then again, in a few days’ time, you won’t even have any reason to talk to me. See, Dalmi, there’s no nee–“ Dalmi wails as Jipyeong tries to deflect her confession.

“Why are you so dense?” she suddenly yells, and Jipyeong’s flustered when Dalmi corners him to the wall.

His mind is filled with the most logical answers first, in an instant. “Because this can’t happen. Dosan already likes you, and you were convinced that you liked him back before you knew the truth. It’s my fault and you don’t have to force yourself onto me, but let me ask you for one thing.” Dalmi chewed on her lower lip in anticipation. She knew this wouldn’t be pleasant.

“Jipyeong…” is all she manages to say under her breath.

He tells her what’s been on his mind for the longest time. “Can you stop being nice to me?” this is him finally giving up. What would he be anyway? A rebound?

“What do you mean?” Dalmi is clueless.

Obviously she is, because her heart is golden, she’s so great, she sees the good in everyone. She sees the good in the people who perceive themselves to be the most flawed, like Han Jipyeong. “It’s the little things to you. I know they’re just second nature to you since you’re inherently nice but… Those little things mean the world to me, and I think about them forever.” he’s embarrassed when he reveals his thoughts, but they’re true.

Her ego is deflated as she’s rebuffed. “Did you feel like I was leading you on?”

“Never! I just made a mountain out of a molehill and fell into a bottomless pit of false hope. It was never your fault.” he’s flailing his arms in the air again, and she’s getting sick of it, how he always feels the need to apologize when he’s done nothing. She despises how he has to do that, when people have been screwing him over.

“What were they anyway?” she prods, and it hurts him just to remember.

“The kakgulsu, the bag for incombustible wa–“

“I won’t stop, because I wanted to do those anyway. Only now, I properly understand my feelings for you.” she’s resolute, and Jipyeong can’t refute that.

With haste, she packs up the first aid kit. “Don’t shut me out just because you don’t want to hurt others. You’ll only end up hurting yourself more.” she’s unanswered.

Before leaving, she takes another look at Jipyeong, crestfallen. She’s more furious after doing that, she doesn’t want him to cry, but he’s the one who’s pushing her away. “And I’m not that sorry, but fuck you for saying we can and should keep a mentor-mentee relationship! Or stop talking? That’s what you wanted all this time? It’s bullshit, Jipyeong!” she doesn’t care about the tears cascading down her cheeks. Jipyeong can’t look her in the eye.

“Oh, I mean, Mr. Han.” she departs with sarcasm, wounding herself more.

She couldn’t help but cry harder as she turned on her heel “If you even listened to me tonight, then this wouldn’t happen.” his voice breaks. When would he stop using excuses to hurt himself?

‘This’ was them being more distant than ever. She finally told him she wanted him to be in her live, the way he yearned to be in it. Rejection was expected to a certain degree, but harshness? Dalmi didn’t prepare for that.

“Mr. Han,” Dalmi rushes after him, but the door is shut. Jipyeong hears her steps resound in the hall, but that doesn’t fill the void in his heart.

She leans against his door for minutes, until his knuckles softly hit the wood. Jipyeong lets Dalmi in again, but he’s more downcast than he was before she left.

He licks his lips and holds her hand. “Dalmi, I care about you so… Take time to really understand your feelings first.” her hand softens in his grip.

Jipyeong finally looks her in the eye, but his are threatening to spill over the first of many tears. “Because I’m tired of being hurt.” he bows, and releases her from his hold.

He watches her leave yet again, but after taking a few steps, she waits. She heard him inhale. Dalmi supposed he had something to say.

Jipyeong’s voice isn’t loud enough for her to hear his words, but she is able to identify him saying “I’ll wait.”

For fifteen years, she had still been on his mind, even though he wasn’t completely aware of it. But here he was, willing to wait until she fully comprehended her feelings. For fifteen years, he retained her in his memories, a fondness that would be imprinted on his heart forever.

Only then did she realize how much the ordeal had hurt him. He had suffered so much just to make her happy.

She didn’t want to do that to him, ever.

The next evening, she hears the doorbell ring and sees him at the gate, his face donning new bandages. It seems like the cuts are slowly fading. She hoped they wouldn’t scar.

He stands rigidly, unable to speak to her, but halmeoni tells Dalmi to bring him in.

Halmeoni claps as she hugs Jipyeong, who awkwardly pats her back. “I made his favorite food! Let’s eat, shall we?” she’s the happiest when the good boy is with her family.

Jipyeong finally meets Dalmi’s mother, and she seems to be at ease with him. Dalmi isn’t unsure if she can speak with him normally again, but halmeoni is the catalyst, and it’s like the big confrontation never happened.

The good boy volunteers to wash the dishes and does so, even when Dalmi gets mad at him. Her mother goes to bed, and so does halmeoni.

Jipyeong is left alone in the kitchen, but looks back to see Dalmi staring at him. He knows what her eyes mean to tell him. As soon as he washes his hands, he sits next to her on the couch.

There’s a safe distance between them, but Dalmi grabs his hand and their thighs are touching now.

He’s warm, she notes, but his eyes are still devoid of contentment. Jipyeong doesn’t stop Dalmi when she rests her head on his shoulder. He laces their fingers together instead.

“There are no more skeletons in the closet.” he chuckles. “But there were never really any.” she hums in response to his statement.

He was right. In the spiderweb of their misaligned fates, they finally caught up to each other.

They stay like that, just breathing, starting to be accustomed to the weight of the other against them.

When Dalmi nearly falls asleep, Jipyeong catches her and helps her settle down on the couch. He grabs a blanket to put over her body, but she makes him sit down once more.

“You said you would wait, right?”

“Mhm…” he slowly nods, afraid of where this was going.

“That’s unfair to you, I think I should wait instead. We can take things slowly. You know I’m willing to wait for you.”

Jipyeong doesn’t know why her words make him elated yet simultaneously blue.

Was this real? Was he finally going to get a chance to love her? Was someone finally going to love him, like that?

The thoughts are limitless, he realized. There really was no easy way to see how this would start, and hopefully never end.

When he says goodbye, he returns and plants a kiss on her forehead. She smiles and does the same to him, her arms tugging him by the nape.

He’s at the door when she hurries after him, feet bare, and blanket falling from her shoulders. “Dalmi?” Jipyeong thought she resumed sleeping.

“I’ve waited for you for fifteen years. I can wait, now that I know who you are.” she fits perfectly against his body, her frame within his arms granting him a sensation he’s longed for.

He smiles against the crown of her head as he kisses it once more, Jipyeong had now discovered that doing so was irresistible.

“I know.” he grins, as they bid each other farewell again.

As the door clicked upon closing it, Jipyeong sighed. “I don’t plan on making you wait any longer.” he’s resolute as he enters his car. Soon, they’ll be happy, properly. He’ll make sure of it.

A minute later, he’s bombarded by a loud string of yelling “Halmeoni! Omma! Omma! Aaaah! Halmeoni! Halmeoni!” the voice belongs to Dalmi, happier than ever.

If he could make her that happy, every moment they were together, it’d be better than winning the lotto, he thought as he sped off into the night with a grin on his face.

He had tomorrow, for that. Or maybe a week. Dalmi said she would wait, it was just a matter of waiting for everything to fall into place now.

She’s been imprinted on his mind for fifteen years, he can surely retain her in his heart for much longer.

For Jipyeong, it’s a fact.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading up to here! Feedback is greatly appreciated! 
> 
> I’m so excited for the next episode.
> 
> If you’re interested in requesting a fic commissi-n, please contact me via [ my twitter account! ](https://twitter.com/daeberrie)


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